


My Vow to You

by tejaswrites



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Avvar, Avvar Culture and Customs, Established Relationship, F/M, Intercultural relationship, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Post-Trespasser, Weddings, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tejaswrites/pseuds/tejaswrites
Summary: After Corypheus is defeated and the Inquisition no more, Skyhold celebrates a wedding.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Sky Watcher (Dragon Age), Sky Watcher/Female Trevelyan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17
Collections: Black Emporium 2020





	My Vow to You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dawnstone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnstone/gifts).



> Thank you so much to Toshi_Nama and Eilfiadh for the beta, and to Ammocharis for the discussions on Avvar lore!

The sun hovered just above the mountain peaks when Evelyn approached the railing of her balcony and looked down at Skyhold below. Once it slipped behind the mountain peaks, the ceremony would begin.

The day had finally come. 

If she’d been asked four years ago, when she was still studying the world from safely within the walls of Markham’s university, that she’d become known as one of the most powerful people in all of southern Thedas, she’d have laughed. She was a researcher, not an adventurer, and certainly not a leader. Though the title of Inquisitor may not mean much anymore, they still had all of this and more.

With a deep breath, she smoothed her hands down over her dress. The embroidery was ornate, the delicate design winding down the front. Traditionally the dress would have been provided by her own hold, but there was little that would be remembered as ‘traditional’ about this wedding. Besides, the women of Runard Hold wanted to give this to her and she would honor their gift by wearing it today.

It had been difficult to obtain the proper permissions to even have the wedding. Not that her advisors would have said no since she was willing—more than—but getting in touch with Movran had been difficult. Sending him out to wreak havoc in Tevinter seemed like a good idea, but that was before she’d needed him to bestow his blessing on her marriage as the thane of Amund’s last hold.

If only the permissions were the most difficult part. No, that was still very much to come.

“Thane Evelina?” 

The sun had just slipped behind the mountains. It was time.

Evelyn turned to find Inge, Amund’s brother’s wife, standing inside the doors. Inge gestured her inside to where more women from Amund’s birth-hold waited with adornments. Several added intricate silver pins to her dress while others lay necklaces of precious stones around her neck. 

When they’d finished, a young child shyly approached, a crown of summer flowers in her hands. The girl’s mother prompted her forward and Evelyn crouched to allow the girl to place the wreath on her head, atop the intricate braids.

“I give you thanks for what you’ve done,” Evelyn told her in her language. The words didn’t flow as easily as Common, but they felt more comfortable on her tongue now than they had when she’d first started to learn his language.

The young girl gave her a toothy grin in response before burying her face in her mother’s skirts. That earned a hearty laughter from the group and that moment of levity lightened her nerves. It _was_ , after all, a joyous day.

The women from Runard Hold made for the stairs, and Evelyn rose back to her feet. As she did, Josephine approached and pulled her into a quick hug. “You look wonderful.”

Evelyn smiled and squeezed Josephine’s arm. “I suppose it's time then?” 

“It is,” Josephine confirmed, blinking away what appeared to be a tear in the corner of her eye. “Now, as you requested, both of your families are seated at the front, and the remainder of the guests are seated together around them. There are, of course, some nobles who take issue with their location, but…” she shrugged, “they’ll forget once the celebrating begins. I made certain we are provisioned for the next week. At a minimum.” 

“An entire week?” 

“Oh yes,” Josephine gave her a conspiratorial look and lowered her voice, “though I do not believe many of your, ah, non-Avvar guests will make it the customary three days.” 

Evelyn smiled at that before she headed toward the stairs.

Josephine called after her, “Evelyn! Don’t forget your rope.”

With words of thanks, Evelyn crossed the room to grab the marriage rope. She’d finished it the night before and as she ran her fingers over the knots she’d tied, worry crept back in. She’d heard stories about Avvar women who tied their knots so tight their partner could only undo one knot. Some did so because they wanted a short marriage, but not all of them. Those women wanted their man to profess their love each year and to put work into the relationship, instead of becoming complacent.

Over the preceding weeks, Evelyn had heard all manner of arguments for how tight to tie her own knots or how quickly to sing. But she didn’t have the understanding to know exactly what she should do. The women of Runard Hold debated it as though it were the most natural thing in the world to know how a particular man would receive a marriage rope, but Evelyn… well, she was a lowlander. Would she offend him if she tied her knots too loose? Would he be disappointed if her song was too short? 

It was too late now. She’d chosen what she’d chosen. The night before, she’d tied the knots one-handed and tightened them with her teeth. Maybe it was cheating to do it that way, or maybe it wasn’t, but she’d been determined to tie her own knots, no matter how difficult it proved to be with one arm. She could only hope Amund could untie at least one. Maker, what if they were too tight and he couldn’t undo a single one?

She peered at the knots, concerned she’d done them wrong and their marriage would fail before it even began. If he couldn’t manage to get even a single one undone then—

Josephine interrupted her thoughts as she laid a gentle hand on her good arm. “Are you alright?”

Evelyn nodded, not wanting her friend to worry. She could manage it enough for the both of them. Clutching the knotted rope like a lifeline, she followed Josephine down the stairs.

***

Amund stood underneath the old oak tree, the leaves above him heavy with life. The lowlanders honored the wishes of him and his hold and left the tree unadorned. Their decorations touched every other part of the hold, but not this tree. 

This tree was sky-touched. He, along with Rollo, the augur of his birth-hold, and his brother, Havardr, wrapped colored cloths around its trunk, invoking a ritual from times long past to ask the gods to bless this place. And for the first time in living memory, this tree had again become a sacred place for the gods to dwell.

Many of his people knew of this stronghold. It had long been without a proper name, and most called it the place that touched the sky. Many visited on their journeys and took refuge in the crumbling walls. When they did, they made offerings to the gods at this very tree. Many did not care to linger as the sky was near here and the gods not always benevolent, but Amund had come willingly when he’d sworn to serve the Inquisition. And now he’d stay willingly with his woman: the Thane of Skyhold. 

The Lady had led him to her, to help heal the wound in the sky. But somewhere along the path She’d set him on, it had become more. And why shouldn’t it? Evelyn watched over her people with a calm heart and a steady hand. He’d been proud to call her ‘thane,’ and he’d be even prouder to call her ‘wife.’ 

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as he thought about it. How did he, a Sky Watcher who’d dedicated his life to the Lady and to his people, end up marrying a lowlander like her?

At the front of the guests, seated in a place of honor, Havardr gave him a stern look. Amund had been to enough of these ceremonies to know laughter wasn’t appropriate yet, but what else could he do? Surely the Lady hadn’t intended _this_ when She sent him here.

How it happened, Amund couldn’t say. Evelyn asked questions, as lowlanders oft did. Amund was accustomed to them. In his travels he’d met many who saw him and his people as some curiosity to be discovered and their lands to be explored. But she never treated him as such. Her questions had been honestly asked and in exchange he’d given her honest answers. That led to more questions and more answers, and so on and so forth.

Before Amund had even been aware what was happening, she’d seek him out and their conversations would last well into the early hours of the morning. The lack of sleep he got those times was worth it, and before long, he found himself inviting her to join him during the monthly rituals and offerings. It was then that he saw though she had no magic, the gods flocked to her, their curiosity as deep as hers. She’d honored them, endearing herself to him even further.

He hadn’t minded his solitary years as a Sky Watcher. Nae, he’d enjoyed them. But he’d found a companionship in her that he enjoyed. Intellectually, but also in _other_ , more tactile pursuits. He knew she was different from anyone he’d met. That was always clear. But he hadn’t admitted how much he cared for her until he’d almost lost her.

While she went to Orlais, he’d tracked corrupted gods and freed them. Important, but it meant he wasn’t there when she needed him most. That would not happen again. He would swear himself to her before the gods, and before his hold and hers. He’d never wanted to untie so many knots as he did for her. He’d not wanted to untie any other’s knots before her.

It wouldn’t be easy for her or for the both of them. But his woman was more than worth the wait. And as he waited under the leaves of the sacred tree, the sun gave way to the moons, a door opened, and a hush settled over the courtyard.

***

Evelyn took deep breaths and continued to run her fingers over the knots as the door to the courtyard was opened for her and she stepped through it. Skyhold at twilight was beautiful and it often took her breath away, but this time her breath stalled from the shock of the sheer amount of people that filled the space. 

Maker, she’d had a mountain dropped on her, defeated a false god, and stared down a council of angry diplomats and all those paled in comparison to this. At least then she’d been the Inquisitor. Now... now she was just Evelyn, for better or for worse. No more hiding behind fancy titles. She balked. Maybe she would have even turned around and run back inside if not for Josephine’s gentle encouragement to focus on Amund.

 _Amund_. Her eyes sought him almost instinctively. He was her strength and her steady path, the one who’d kept her grounded as the world crumbled around her.

Her missing hand throbbed in pain as her body remembered its final moments even though it was long gone. That which did not exist was almost impossible to stop, but it had been him and his strength that supported her while she healed.

Her eyes connected with his. He wasn’t wearing his mask, so his tattoos were visible for the entire world to see. No one else might realize what that meant, but she did. He’d laid himself bare before her, coming into their marriage as he was, not as the world so often saw him. He was giving her everything, as she would give him in return. For this was not a marriage of convenience, but one of a heart-love.

She let go of the hesitation as she approached him, waiting underneath the large oak tree that she’d learned was sacred to his people.

He reached his hand towards hers and trailed the backs of his fingers against her knuckles. Evelyn took a steadying breath. With Amund at her side, she could do this. She could do anything.

She returned his smile and they turned to face the augur.

The first part of the ceremony would be the offering to the gods. As the man began, his words those of a language she only partially understood, she nervously started to pass her fingers along each knot she’d tied on the rope, first down and then back up it.

During this part, she only had to do as she was told, as long as her offering and her prayers were earnest. It was the next part that twisted her insides and made her wish she’d turned around and remained hidden inside the keep. For starters, she couldn’t sing, much less in a language she’d only just started to learn. 

Amund had been patiently teaching her. He helped her with the sounds that were so foreign to her Common-speaking tongue. When the people of his birth-hold arrived, they’d been ecstatic at her greeting, firing off responses and questions too quick for her to follow. Evelyn knew she had an accent, the words she spoke sounded different even to her ears than the ones she’d heard, but the people of Runard Hold had been as patient as Amund in their encouragement.

In the weeks since the Amund had signaled his intent to marry her and the guests of his birth-hold arrived, she’d been welcomed in as family. Holding the ceremony at Skyhold signaled the intention that Amund join her hold instead of the other way around, but no one had seemed bothered by that. They seemed as happy for him to leave as they might welcome a new member of their hold.

It had been Inge who’d helped Evelyn in choosing the song she’d sing during the knot untying. There had been so many options, Evelyn didn’t know where to even begin in her decision making, but with Inge and the other women’s encouragement, she made her selection and practiced. For the past several weeks, she’d sung day and night, willing the words to become comfortable in her mouth and imprinted on her mind. For all that she had done, forgetting the words to her knot untying song could quite possibly be the worst.

The augur held out his hands. Amund handed over their offering, but Evelyn hesitated. Behind his mask the man’s eyes were gentle, and he gave Evelyn an encouraging nod. 

She gave him her knotted rope.

He turned his back to them to lay the offering at the base of the sacred tree and lift the rope toward the sky. His words moved from spoken to chanted as he asked the blessing of the Lady on the ceremony and on their marriage. Evelyn closed her eyes and prayed to the Lady of the Skies for a marriage built on a foundation of patience, humor, and strength. Decades of Chantry experience had her adding a quick prayer to the Maker as well, just to be thorough.

When the augur stopped chanting, he turned to face her. “Evelina Trevelyan, Thane of Sky Hold, do you wish to sing the wedding-chant?”

Evelyn nodded, “Yes.” 

He nodded and looked to Amund. “Amund Jorgensen, Sky Watcher of the Lady, son of Runard Hold, do you wish to untie the knots?”

“Aye.”

The augur nodded and held the rope out to Amund. “Then proceed.”

***

Time slowed to a crawl as she looked up at him and took a breath. And as she sang the first word, his fingers started working the first knot. He’d wanted to watch her as she sang the wedding-chant, but… He frowned and looked down at the knot. They were pulled tight. He should have known she wouldn’t make it easy on him, Havardr had warned him as much with Inge advising. The song was a decent length, not too short and not too long, but if he wanted more than one year, it would take some work. 

The wedding-chant wove around them as he loosened the knot, wrapping the both of them in its magic. The Sky was near here and the gods had gathered to watch. They wandered freely among the guests. Some sat in the tree and still others hovered nearby as they watched. But he could only see those who wanted to be seen.

There, one knot down, he thought, relieved that he’d managed at least that. There was enough of the song left that he could get two, maybe three more if he worked fast. He gave the rope his full attention as Evelyn continued her song.

He’d just finished untying the third knot when silence descended over the courtyard, as though it held its breath. He glanced up at Evelyn’s flushed, but beaming face. Gone was the woman who’d been nervously fingering the rope, lower lip between her teeth, and in her stead was his Evelyn, proud and triumphant.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the sacred tree above them as Rollo took the rope from him and held it up for the crowd to see. “With the Lady’s blessing, the marriage between Evelina Trevelyan and Amund Jorgensen shall be for three years from this day forth!” 

Their guests cheered, but he didn’t hear them. The ceremony wasn’t over. It wouldn’t officially be for several days yet once the feast began, but there was one more part for them now.

She hadn’t taken her eyes off him. Her voice was steady and strong, clear even with a thick accent, as she said in his mother-tongue, “For the length of the wedding rope, I give you that which is mine to give.”

A hush fell over the crowd once more when Amund kneeled before her. He reached for her hand, taking it in his. “And I shall serve you in those ways you require.” 

“Amund Jorgensen, I shall honor you above all others.”

“Evelyn Trevelyan, I shall honor you above all others.” He bowed his head and added in Common, “That is my vow to you.”

When he lifted his eyes back to hers, her head was tilted in a curious look as she gazed back at him. That last bit wasn’t part of the marriage pledge, but lowlanders seemed to believe vows were necessary for a good marriage. He wanted that for them, and he’d do what was necessary to make it so.

He gazed up at the woman he now called ‘wife.’ A piece of hair had escaped the braids and fallen into her face, and it was the most beautiful he’d ever seen her. Ack, marriage had already turned him soft.

She bent forward to kiss him. Neither of them usually took part in the spectacle of public affection, but he would make an exception for this lowlander marriage tradition. More cheering erupted around them and she broke away, cheeks flushed and eyes shining.

He leapt to his feet and lifted her into his arms, before shouting to the still cheering crowd, “And now we feast! May Korth himself celebrate with us tonight.”


End file.
